


Pain Soul Deep

by khorybannefin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:59:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: The reader takes a hunt too personally. The boots find out about deep seated emotional issues.





	Pain Soul Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This is a trigger fic. Be warned. It does have a relatively supportive ending.

Pain Soul Deep

Cast: Reader + TWF

Author: kkhorybannefin

Author Gender: Female

Reader Gender: Non specific

Word Count: 2032

Summary: Reader takes work home. TFW discover self harm issue

Warnings: TRIGGER: self harm, blood. Suicide. Extreme hunting violence

 

Have you ever seen a limb physically ripped from another living, conscious human being? Yeah. You hadn't either. It was the worst thing you could think of ever seeing in your life. Just the sound, that wet ripping, popping sound as flesh and bone separated. And the woman screamed. It was barely human. You echoed the sound, tears streaming down your face as the chains that bound you cut into your skin. The geists just laughed. The victim had passed out, thank god. You were heading there yourself. You knew you were hyperventilating, getting light headed. The roaring sound in your ears was so loud that when the boys came through the door firing you didn't even hear the guns discharge. It was like a silent movie, guns and screaming, and all you could do was look at the dismembered corpse, her scream echoing through her skull.

The hunt was done. You were headed home. You had to have Dean pull over twice so you could throw up violently. They kept asking if you were ok. You couldn't even answer them, and they seemed to get it. When you got back to the bunker you drifted to your room. Looking in the mirror you saw yourself, bruised around the eyes, face greyed with the trauma. You were trembling. It was altogether possible you were in shock. You were so disconnected that you didn't even care. You closed your eyes and a bloody limb hit the concrete floor. You choked on a scream and sunk to the floor, rocking against your dresser. Tears started falling, and your head chimed in.

*This was your fault you know. How could you have planned this badly? How could you have gotten caught? If you'd been better, faster, smarter, that woman would still be here. She begged you to save her and you just sat there. You just watched as they ripped her apart. You killed her. YOU KILLED HER!*

You were gasping, choking on tears. You couldn't block out the sight of it. Every drop of blood, neon bright and slow motion. That hellish scream was neverending. You were drowning in it. The pain and guilt and you couldn't get away. You had to find a way. Some way to make amends. Some way to concentrate on something, anything else. You couldn't focus!

Unbidding your brain supplied your usual method of concentration, and you grabbed at it desperately. You snatched your phone and headphones, the pouch you carried when you went out, and bolted from the room. The guys were still in the library as you pounded up the stairs. You didn't look at them, so you didn't see them exchange a look of concern. The door banged behind you and you were gone.

There was a place in the park that you went when you wanted to be alone. It was high on a hill, in the line of trees that separated the park marginally from the golf course. Very out of the way. You sat, looking down, feeling so separate from everything. You started crying again as the hunt replayed in your mind. You turned on your music. Evanescence queued up. Torniquet. Very appropriate. You reached into your pouch and pulled out the knew pack of box cutter blades.

There were ten to a pack, and you were smart. You used a new one every time. They had a little bit of oil on them in the package, to prevent them from rusting you supposed. You wiped the one you chose on your pants. From this height it was easy to hide your motions from the people below. You pressed the blade to the the inside of one arm. The woman was screaming in your head, and you apologized to her. You just kept chanting "I'm Sorry" in your head as you drew the blade across your arm in a long line from wrist to elbow. The blood surprised you.

You hadn't known until you did it that that's where this was going today. Your heart broke as you watched dark blood well in the huge cut. It was too big, too deep. This wasn't your focus, this was your release. You looked at the woman in the eyes as she died, and you hadn't stopped it. You didn't deserve to be here. You were more of a handicap than a help to the boys. You didn't even know why they'd saved you, but you'd fix it. You'd fix everything. This was the price you paid for so much failure.

You laid back in the grass, thinking of everything you'd ever fucked up in your life. It was a really long list. With every pump of your heart your mistakes drained away. Peace stole over you and you sighed. You thought of Sam, all those dimpled smiles. You said goodbye. Dean with his smartass humor. Goodbye to him too. Poor sweet innocent angel, warrior of God. Goodbye Cas. It was all over. You were so relieved. You closed your eyes.

***

Cas appeared in the library, looking frantic.

"We have a problem!"

The boys stuttered, trying to ask what was wrong, but Cas just grabbed them both by the shoulders and moved.

The park was lovely this time of day. Y/N lay at their feet, such a peaceful expression on that sweet face. Cas knelt down and showed them your arm, forcing them to recognize the source of that "peace". Sam opened his mouth in an "O" of shock, dropping and taking your head in his hands, calling your name. You didn't really hear him. Dean snatched the blade out of your other hand, digging through the pouch and finding the rest of your supplies. Cas touched you. You knew it was him, because his healing always felt like he'd dropped you in ice water. You sat bolt upright, eyes wide, gasping. It took you a minute to realize where you were and what had happened. You looked at the three of them and groaned. 

Sam had his hands on either side of your face, his expression both fury and terror.

"Y/N why? For gods sake why?"

You shook him off, tears falling as the regret and guilt pounded through you again. Dean looked at the mess inside your pouch and his eyes were accusing. Cas was holding your arm, tracing his fingers over the many many scars that none of them had ever really noticed. You yanked your arm out of the angels grasp and shook off Sam.

"The fuck do you mean "why?" Why not?! I've never been anything but a problem. Hunts end badly when I'm involved. People die, and I never help, never stop it. I don't need to be here. The world would be better off. YOU would be better off. And so would I. Just go away."

You stood, trying to walk away from them. Cas had closed the wound but you'd lost a lot of blood. You took two steps before your vision blurred and you dropped.

"Cas," you heard Dean growl. "Take us home."

You didn't feel the world tilt, but you felt your bed as you were laid on it. Sam stripped out of his flannel and climbed in the bed with you in his t-shirt, wrapping himself around you. He just kept whispering to you what a wonderful person you were, how much worse his life would be without you. He raised his eyes, pleading with Dean and Cas to do something while you just clung to him and cried helplessly.

"Cas?" Dean was concerned, gesturing at you. "What the hell?"

"Sadly it is a very human problem. Depression. Not all of it results in this sort of mutilation or suicide, but it's common. I can alter the chemicals in Y/N's brain, but I can't just scoop out the trauma. It's still something that will have to be worked through."

"Do it," Dean ordered. 

Sam heard it all, tightening his arms around you, rocking you and trying to shush you as Castiel rounded the bed. His fingers were cool against your forehead. This wasn't his normal healing. It was a trickle of energy. You could feel it weaving in your head. The tears stopped as you felt him moving through you. Yours eyes lifted and stared until those gorgeous blue eyes focussed again. Yours was full of awe, even as concern glowed in his.

"What did you do?"

"I made it easier. Easier to think, to process, to let go. You should sleep now."

"Ok," you muttered. You really were exhausted, now that he talked about sleep. You'd had a long day. Sam was a huge warn weight against you, and it was the perfect place to be. You passed out fast and hard. You never felt it when Sam pulled himself out from under you. You didn't hear the boys utterly ransack your room, finding everything you had stashed and taking it all away. They stood in your doorway, looking at you.

"I just don't get it. I don't understand what was so bad that this was the option?" Dean really did look confused. Death never hit him this hard.

"Dean, seriously?" Sam looked at his brother like he was an alien. "Did you even see that room when we were done with it? You heard the woman scream. Y/N was right there when they did that to her. You think it's easy for people to get over something like that?" Dean shrugged.

"Of course not. That's why god made booze, Sam. It was his apology for the heinous shit he put in this world." Sam punched him in the shoulder.

"That's exactly the point. You drink to cope. I run. Y/N does this. We've all got our demons. Y/Ns just demands blood."

"Yeah, right. Blood." Dean glared at the needles, blades, and bandages in his hands. "So, how do we exorcise it, huh? There a special demon trap for this?" Sam sighed.

"Cas did what he could. Most people with depression like this take medicine. There's a chemical imbalance in their head that prevents them from processing and then letting go. They get caught in this self reinforcing thought loop, negativity over and over. You can fix the chemicals, like Cas did, and it makes it easier to work through things. But whatever caused the depression is still there."

"So what you're saying is therapy. We have to find a shrink? For a hunter? Oh that's just gonna be a cake walk."

"You got a better idea Dean?" Sam hissed angrily. His jaw was clenched. He couldn't figure out if his brother was really that cold or if this was just Tough Big Brother act.

"I do actually. What better therapist than an angel?" Sam blinked and Dean let out a breath. "Look, they all know about hunting. They know about the sick and evil shit that goes on in the world. Y/n can talk to an angel about anything and not endanger any of us. Plus, even if the angel isnt exactly human, they can read minds right? Nothing like detached logic and an ear with literally an eternity to listen. What do you think?"

"Worth a try," Sam said, looking back at you. He could see you were having a bad dream. He went back to your bedside, holding your hand in his. "Dean, you've got to find someone other than Cas though. Someone who can stay. Maybe Gabriel would do it. He'd be good. He gets humans."

"Right. Good idea. I'll get on that." He gestured towards you, seeing you twitching in your sleep. "You gonna stay?"

"Yeah. Y/N deserves some sleep. I'll make sure." Dean nodded and closed the door behind him. Sam brushed your hair out of your eyes, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Don't give up, Y/N," he whispered into your ear. "We're here. I'm here. Just sleep. It'll all be ok."


End file.
